


Not Quite Sure

by i_like_ships



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff and Angst, I swear the story is better than the summary, POV Catra (She-Ra), The Title Is Also Horrible, but I couldn't think of anything else qkdjwodjsh, but more fluff, oh look no major character death tag for once!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_like_ships/pseuds/i_like_ships
Summary: You're not quite sure when you developed a crush on her. Nevertheless, it’s there - and growing stronger every day.ORCatra isn't sure of what made Adora different from other cadets, or when she fell in love with her, or even who proposed first. Later on, although she still isn't certain of many things, she does know Adora loves her.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	Not Quite Sure

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey, thanks for clicking! This is the first catradora fic I've written that isn't super angsty

You're not quite sure what made this girl different from the hundreds of cadets you saw every day. You've seen plenty of people and hybrids alike with a missing tooth, or blonde hair, or bright blue eyes. So what made this one different? She was the nasty masked lady's favourite after all, and you _despised_ that woman. 

Perhaps it was the way she smiled at you — something no one else ever did. Or the way she used her hands animatedly when she talked about stuff she accomplished, the things the mean person – Shadow Weaver, you later found out was her name, praised the blonde girl for. Or maybe it was the way her eyes shone brightly when she told you about her day, not that you were paying attention. 

You remember when she introduced herself. "Adora!" she had said, a crooked grin on her face as she stuck out her hand. "Wanna be friends?" 

You had scowled and batted it away, not bothering to sheathe your sharp claws. You'd scratched plenty of people before, so why did you feel a bout of _something_ this time? 

It didn't matter. Especially when Shadow Weaver came and punished you, torturing you with dark magic until you screamed and cried.  
She'd told you that you weren't to have any rations that night, or the next. Not that you cared. 

During that night's dinner, the blonde girl with the blue eyes and kind smile gave you half of her food. You wanted to shove it away and hiss, revel in her fear, but your stomach rebelled, growling loudly, unused to the meagre rations you were allowed in the Horde.  
(Fleetingly, you remember gentle smiles, soft fur and the warmth of your mother as she held you tenderly, stroking your head as she whispered sweet nothings.) 

"Grey ones are my favourite," she – Adora told you like she was sharing a big secret. "They taste so much better than the brown ones." You weren't sure of the difference between the two bars, they tasted exactly the same to you. But nonetheless, you agreed, and the goofy smile she gave you was almost worth your still hungry stomach. 

The next time you two interacted was during a training session. Your squad, which was composed of a scrawny blonde boy (who you thought was Adora at first, then realised it was the wrong shade of yellow), a skinny reptilian, a brash dark-skinned girl, and _your_ blonde girl with big sapphire eyes, a missing tooth and crooked grin. 

"Watch out!" she had shouted at you, and you turned in surprise – no one looked out for you, a trouble-making waste of space. Except her. 

Adora shoved you out of the way of a laser, the bot missing by mere centimetres. 

Later, you repaid the favour, taking out a robot who was about to shoot a defenceless Adora. It's just a favour, you had told yourself. She does something for me, I do something for her. Nothing more than that. 

You remember when you were being picked on by some older cadets. They pulled your fur and tail, and called you names that secretly hurt you, even though you maintained a cold facade. Later, you went to seek refuge in your bunk, only to discover the worn blanket and rock-hard pillow had been stolen, no doubt by the ones mocking you. You'd curled up in a ball, shivering as the Fright Zone creaked noisily around your cold body. Adora had been assigned the bunk under you and noticed. 

"Hey," she whispered, patting her mattress. "Come here, it's warm!" 

You told yourself you were freezing when you relented, clambering silently over to perch on her feet. "This isn't because I like you," you growled. 

Adora flashed you a grin. "That's okay," she said. "Don't you wanna sleep with me though?" 

You shook your head, then remembered she couldn't see in the dark. You told her no, and lay down, your tail curling protectively around her ankle as her warmth seeped into you, a million times more comfortable than any blanket. 

When you eventually told her your name, it was like a barely audible whisper admidst a raging hurricane like you were afraid someone could use it to do something bad to you. Like it held power over you, for the only times it was used was when you were being scolded. 

Adora changed that. 

She loved your name. 

"Catra!" she would shout as she barreled towards you, tackling you playfully after a successful training session. 

"Catra," she would murmur as she carded her clumsy fingers through your unruly fur, exhausted after a long day.

"Catraaa," she would groan as you refused to wake up, simply tugging her closer and resting your head in the crook of her neck. 

_"Catra,"_ she would breathe in relief after you were released from the frequent punishments you received from Shadow Weaver, wrapping you in a tight hug. 

"Catra." she would hiss as she followed you to whatever prohibited hiding spot you had found, complaining the whole way, but following you notwithstanding. 

"Catra?" she would call tentatively, eyes blown wide and breathing hard after a nightmare as you snuggled up to her more, your tails curling higher around her leg, offering yourself as a source of comfortable. 

After a while, you hated your name a little less. 

*****

You're not quite sure when you two became friends. When it stopped being 'just a favour'. You suppose it was Adora's constant kindness, and you couldn't help the way your carefully, methodically walls crumbled when around her.

You remember one of the few times Adora stood up to Shadow Weaver for you. 

Most of the times were when she was younger, when your friendship mattered more to her than becoming a Force Captain, or pleasing Shadow Weaver. 

"Please!" she had cried, leaping out in front of you, flinching when Weaver's terrifying, blank stare bored into her. 

"A-Adora," you croaked out. "No.." 

She ignored you and carried on pleading. Most of her speech was the normal "she won't do it again, I promise!" or the "please, she'll make it up to you!" but one sentence stood out — different to the rest. 

"Please, _please_ don't hurt her! She's my friend," Adora had practically sobbed. 

And although your feet were cold against the frigid metal floor, your body shivering as tremours of pain wracked your body, a warm feeling spread through you at those words. 

You suppose that was when Adora considered you her friend, but you didn't think the same until a couple of years later — when she found you, crying and alone, and promised you that you two would look out for each other. 

"Hey, Catra?" Adora had timidly asked you those few years after the initial friend incident. Both of you were sitting idly on Adora's bunk, huddling together for warmth as the power had gone out hours before. 

"Mm?" you responded, lacing your calloused fingers with hers. 

Her next words were so quiet, you wouldn't have heard them if not for your cat-like ears. "Are we friends?" 

You did a double-take, briefly pulling your hand out of Adora's. She seemed to take it as a rejection, turning away from you. "Sorry," she muttered, her voice strained – and you knew she was on the verge of tears. "I... I just thought we were."

You bit your lip. No one – except, maybe your parents, had cared about you. You didn't have any friends, anyone who cared. 

"No!" you exclaimed hastily. "No, we're friends. Best friends."

Adora twisted slightly. "Promise?" 

You swallowed thickly, your voice raspy, "I promise."

Once, Octavia had jeered that Adora was Weaver's pet, and nothing more. That no one cared for her. When her ocean eyes glistened with unshed tears, your fur had bristled, and you hissed as you insulted the absolute Hordak out of the idiot who dared to hurt Adora. 

"Catra," Adora had sniffed. "Do you think what she said was true?" 

You shook your head vehemently, stepping closer and placing your hands on Adora's shoulders. "No! She's a big, fat dumb-face. And I care about you," you said earnestly, cringing slightly at the sappy words, but you were never able to stay aloof and tough around Adora. "You're my friend. You're always gonna be my friend, " you repeated the words Adora had said to you a few months ago – when you were just a scared child. 

Her teary eyes shone with something you were unfamiliar with. Affection. 

She hugged you tightly, nestling into your shoulder. "Thank you," she mumbled and you combed your finger through her hair, which was let down for a change. She always looked beautiful – even if she was crying, which she was currently doing. Her hair was soft and silky, and you marvelled at the texture as you let her sob in gratitude into your tear stained shoulder. 

*****

You're not quite sure when you developed a crush on her. Nevertheless, it’s there - and growing stronger every day. 

It just, sort of... happened. 

You'd strolled in, late as normal, and froze. Adora was sparring Rogelio, and nothing was out of the ordinary. 

But you noticed the way her bright eyes almost glowed with determination, the way her fit body twisted as she ducked a blow, the way her muscled arms flexed and strained, the curves she had, the way her stupid little hair poof was suddenly endearing. 

Why were you suddenly weak at the knees? 

Why, when she flashed her signature grin at you, did your face heat up? (You hoped your tan complexion could hide the pink tinging your cheeks.) 

Why, whenever she was in close proximity to you, (which was often) did your ability to form coherent sentences fall off the cliff parts of the Fright Zone stood precariously on? 

What even was this feeling? 

You recall when you and Adora snuck into a warehouse forbidden to cadets — for a good reason. It was filled with stun batons and energy cannons and a whole arsenal of dangerous weapons. You had no idea how Adora hadn't gotten caught by one of the many guards patrolling the place, she was so clumsy and loud it almost physically hurt. 

The two of you fiddled with the batons, clicking each setting in awe, and even daring to spar with them. 

At one point, you leaped up onto a cannon, whooping as you used your weight to maneuver the weapon. Somehow, the fire button collided with a something — maybe a corner of the many boxes of batons, and began glowing a bright green. 

"Move!" Adora shouted, tackling you off and dragging you behind a stack of crates. She pressed you into the wall, arms encasing you, and there was little to no space between you and her. 

The cannon fired with a loud bang, blowing a hole through the wall. 

You cursed softly. Not just at the damage you caused, but at the fact _Adora_ had you pinned up against the wall. Your head rested on her shoulder, sort of like a hug. It was strangely intimate. 

Then she placed a finger gently on your lips, and your face bloomed a bright red. She didn't seem to notice your state of... distress. 

Guards shouted and inspected the damage as you and Adora hid away — and it took a few hours for everything to go back to normal, so you were stuck like that for a while. For way too long. You weren't sure your brain was ever going to be able to function properly again. 

"Catra!" Adora had called when training finished, which had been scheduled straight after Shadow Weaver's horrible sex ed talk (which just informed you of STD's), rushing towards you, heedless of the many cadets she was shouldering past. 

Dear Hordak, she was strong. 

"Hey," you greeted, trying not to stutter. 

"Hey yourself," she replied cockily, slinging an arm over your shoulder. 

"Ew," you laughed. "You smell." 

Adora quickly pulled away, looking unusually self-conscious. "I... do?" she asked, staring at you with an indiscernible expression on her normally cheerful face. 

You frowned, suddenly feeling self-conscious too. You felt guilt, and the urge to comfort her. "No, you don't," you lied smoothly. "I was kidding."

"Oh," Adora's frown vanished, and she rubbed the back of her neck inelegantly as the two of you lapsed into awkward silence, which was strange. Normally it was comfortable, unless you had fought with her – which you hadn't.

You glanced at Adora, whose face was scrunched up, probably panicking at the situation. 

You nudged her. "Hey, don't stress. I can practically _hear_ you overthinking."

She gave you a lopsided grin, and the awkwardness disappeared. 

The two of you continued as usual, and you ignored whatever strange feelings you felt around you. 

It didn't work for very long. 

*****

You're not quite sure when you fell in love with her. 

At the time, you didn't know what _being in love_ even was. 

All you knew was that you would do anything for Adora, that you cared for her safety more than your own — not that you would show it, of course. 

But whenever she got injured, although on the outside you looked slightly bored, albeit a little agitated, inside worry and guilt was gnawing at you, screaming to see if she was ok. 

You would recklessly protect her in subtle ways, because she was an essential part to the Horde (or, at least to Shadow Weaver), while you were merely a pawn, practically useless and easily discarded. 

As long as Weaver focused on your failures, and not Adora's occasional ones, she would be safe. Weaver would be preoccupied with you and your trouble making tendencies: she wouldn't notice Adora sometimes screwing up. 

So you kept talking the fall, even going as far to do stupid stuff on purpose so you'd get punished. One day, you and her would be in charge and Weaver would not hurt you any more. 

As long as Adora was okay, and safe, nothing else really mattered. 

Because you were looking out for her, like you'd promised so long ago. 

Maybe that's why it hurt so much when she left. 

******

You're not quite sure what happened to you two. One second, everything was fine. The next, she was gone — she'd defected to the rebellion. She'd gone to the other side despite all the suffering you endured for her; like you meant nothing. Like the promise meant nothing. 

Before she left, she told you to cover for her. That it wouldn't be long, and she would come back before you knew it. 

Now, you realise it was a lie. 

If she lied about that, then what else did she not tell the truth about? 

The next time you see her after your first battle – you two full on _fought._ Not playfully wrestling, but fighting to harm. She was an 8 foot glowy lady. Her eyes were the wrong colour, she was too buff, she doesn't even have the dumb hair poof. It's wrong. It's not Adora. 

She was wielding the sword she left you for. 

"Catra," she said, and you've never heard her say your name like this. You decide you hate it. 

Behind her is a boy in a crop top, which is a stupid idea in a battlefield, and a girl who sparkles so much it hurts your eyes, and you can't help thinking if she and Adora are in a relationship. You brush the thought aside and lunge at her, using your superior agility to carve wounds into her body and face and revel in her fear, whilst mocking her the entire time. 

"This is what you left me for?" you eventually snarled one day. "I hope it was worth it."

Adora tried to protest, stating that the Horde was evil and that you should join her. 

You chuckled as you watch her hope die, her expression falling, and you tamp down the feeling of guilt bubbling in your stomach. 

"Catra, _please,"_ she begged, and you've never heard her say your name like this, either. It's a mix of sadness and irritation and longing, and you're searching for a suitable response when the annoying short, glittery one barges in and throws magic into your face, causing your vision to go all pink and purple. The arrow boy who seemingly wants to get shot in the abdomen launches an arrow that turns into a net and encases you. 

When you finally managed to rub the sparkles out of your eyes, and spit out whatever ended up in your mouth, they're gone. 

You danced with Adora during princess prom, and some of those... feelings appeared when you do. You made the impulsive decision to dip her, grinning wickedly when you see her slightly dazed expression. For a second, you wished the moment would never end – but then you let slip Bow's been kidnapped, and she goes from being stunned by your actions to lifting you by your collar in anger. 

You kept your smirk plastered on, but secretly her feat of strength impresses you. And scares you, just a little bit. After all, you both know she's been holding back every time you two fight, but this time, it briefly runs wild. 

And later, you two fight on the crumbling rooftop. She's gotten shoddy, you mentally notice. Her punches are sloppy and you dodge easily. 

Then you make a mistake. 

You became too cocky, and she moves out of the way. Your hands are still in your pockets, and you feel the wind whistling in your ears as you prepare to fall. 

But then she catches you. 

By the waist. She dragged you away from the edge, pulling up by your shirt, your faces mere centimetres apart. And if the dip stirred up old feelings, that threw them into a blender. You can only pray to the First One's that your blush is hidden as you stare right into the depths of her eyes. 

And it's so, so confusing but at the same time it reminds you of the old times, when it was the two of you up against the world. 

You find her in an old First One's temple as She-Ra, shouting at an AI. You fight down a grin at her silly antics. At least some things stayed the same. 

Later, she saves you from robot spiders, and gives you the same crooked smile that caused you to fall in love with her. 

You roll your eyes, and you two continue bickering. You can't help but think, maybe everything will be okay. 

Of course, you should have realised to stop hoping; you always get disappointed in the end. 

During the Battle for Bright Moon you regret your actions immediately, but you can't stop yourself. It's like half of you wants to go back, but the other wants to slash, claw, _hurt_ Adora so she knows the pain she's caused you. 

In a moment where your fury blinded you, you rake your claws down her back, leaving deep, red gouges and as she throws her head back and screams in pain, you resist the urge to flinch at the sound, resist the urge to help her. 

She made that choice, you tell yourself. If she stayed, it would not have ended this way. 

You actually do wince when she's tied up, weaponless and tired and electrocuted. But you force the corner of your mouth up so it looks like some sort of sadistic wink-smirk.

Please be okay, you hope as you start command your army to infiltrate the castle. 

She was. 

Unfortunately – or fortunately? she did recover fast, and that proves to be your undoing. They take back Bright Moon, and your failure reminds you of all the times you were unsuccessful in doing something for Adora. 

And now, it isn't _Catra and Adora_ any longer. You two are no longer a team, only the remnants of a broken promise. _Catra_ and _Adora._

****

You're not quite sure what happened to _you._

Most of your nightmares are plagued by Shadow Weaver and Adora. And while what Weaver says to you cuts deep, what Adora says cuts deeper. 

Things like, "You were never my friend", "I don't love you", "I don't care". 

It hurts, but you refuse to put your energy towards moping. You, instead, use it to climb up the ranks. Hordak, you know, is proud of you. Somewhat. But his approval will never come close to Adora's.

You continue to strive for it, and take Entrapta from the princesses, bluffing to keep her at the Horde. You tell her the things Shadow Weaver told you after Adora left. 

She then helps open a portal, which almost breaks the world. Almost. 

You fail. 

But, soon you receive the news the Bright Moon has lost their Queen to it, and you bask in that information. 

Good, you think callously. This is what you get for leaving me. 

The world is falling apart. Multi coloured lights split the earth, but you barely notice as you fight Hordak. You imagine he is She-Ra, the being who stole away your Adora. You want to kill him. 

Duck, run, flip, slash. 

Repeat. 

He lands a few lucky shots, but you ignore that pain coursing through your body. You've survived Shadow Weaver, you think, and ignore the bitterness that runs through you as you remember she followed in Adora's footsteps. Along with Scorpia. 

Later on, Double Trouble – who you started to trust, tells you that you drive them away, and you make a note to never, ever trust anyone again. 

You don't know what happened to your love for Adora. It's like it's evaporated, and all you can think of her is when you were tortured for her, when she didn't bother to stand up for you. All the bad things. 

If you concentrate really hard, you can sort of remember good things. But it requires a lot of effort to get past the barrier of anger and pent up frustration, so you don't bother. 

You used to try, but you stopped after the battle. 

So, when you get beamed up to the mother ship with Sparkles, you decide to get revenge. You needed to help Horde Prime destroy Etheria. You would rather let the world end than let her win, right? 

... Right? 

****

You're not quite sure how Adora forgave you. 

Hell, you don't even know what she came back for you even after you _explicitly_ said not to. 

But that stubborn, goofy, brave idiot did. 

Determined, like the day she was sparring Rogelio, so long ago. You think it made you fall in love all over again. 

You fought her again. Against your will, for once. 

Briefly, she managed to break you out of your Horde Prime induced haze. 

"Why did you come back?" you'd demanded, eyes teary. "We both know I don't matter."

"You matter to me," she said so earnestly, and it reminds you of the day you officially became friends. Reminds you of the good memories that were once so hard to access. 

You smile genuinely, wistfully. You haven't smiled like that for a long, long time. 

Adora always did make you softer. 

When Prime electrocuted you, you howled for a second, the feeling all too similar to Weaver's magic. Your world went black, and you thought you were going to die. 

How cruel, you thought as you slipped into darkness, to end my life when I allowed myself to hope again. 

You came to wrapped in Adora's – not She-Ra's arms, her tears leaking into your grubby shirt, relief spreading through her as she saw you were awake. 

You pulled her close to you, unwilling to let her go ever again. 

(Later, she approaches you with your old clothes, telling you that Horde Prime's a dumb-face, just like Octavia.) 

*****

You're still not quite sure what happened that day, it was like a dream. 

Well, a dream infused with a nightmare. 

Thinking about the moment in the Heart brought a slightly dopey smile onto your face, yet your stomach dropped at the thought of Adora's dance with death. 

The door to your room creaked open, and you glanced up to see the mighty She-Ra.

"Hey," she said. 

"Hey yourself," you replied easily. 

"We did it," she laughed, for once free of any burdens. Of course, it would not last forever, but a brief respite was what Adora needed. "We defeated Prime!" she giggled, sounding incredulous. 

You chuckled too. "Yeah, you did. And now," you waggled your eyebrows, "they're building a statue in your honour."

Adora groaned, whacking you lightly. "Shut up," she shot you a playful scowl. 

"She-Ra, the saviour of Etheria, embarrassed? No, it couldn't be!" 

"Catra," she huffed. 

"Adora," you teased. 

"I still can't believe it," Adora gushed after a moment of silence, as she flopped onto the bed you two shared. 

"Well, you should, dork," you poked her forehead, leaning over to place a kiss on her cheek as an afterthought. 

Adora blushed, but turned her head towards you at the last second, your lips meeting hers, sharing a chaste kiss. 

"Catra?" she asked gently afterwards. You decided you liked the way she said your name like that, like she was dazed by the effect you had on her. 

"Mm?" 

"I love you," Adora murmured quietly. 

You grinned at her, "I love you too." 

*****

You aren't quite sure who proposed first. 

Adora argued it was her, while you stubbornly refused to agree, saying that it was you. 

("It was me, Catra! I literally pulled out the box a millisecond before you did!" Adora grumbled. 

"Wha— no, you didn't! I did!") 

Not that you would ever tell Adora, but it didn't really matter to you that much. 

Being with her was all you needed. 

There were many things you were uncertain about, but there was something that you knew for sure. 

The girl with the blonde hair, bright blue eyes and lopsided grin loved you. 

And you loved her too.

**Author's Note:**

> This was edited at 12am last night, so sorry for any mistakes! Kudos, comments and bookmarks make my day :) please consider leaving one
> 
> I've tried to keep it all past tense, but i think at some point it goes into present? Sorry about that, too.  
> If you like lumity, go check out my TOH fics (if you haven't read them) :D  
> Find me on twitter as @i_like_ships  
> Thanks for reading!


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